


Snowballs in Summer

by Cloudy_Serendipity



Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Bucky is Bae, Bucky is agile as fuck, Bucky is hot, Demon!Cat - Freeform, F/M, Firefighter AU, Fluff, Mutual Attraction, Reader-Insert, Sexual Tension, cat rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22273513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudy_Serendipity/pseuds/Cloudy_Serendipity
Summary: Your day goes from bad to worse when Snowball escapes.  Luckily for you, retired war hero and newly minted firefighter, Bucky Barnes is on hand to rescue a damsel in distress.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 104





	Snowballs in Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Firefighter cliché - Snowball is a demon cat, Bucky is a babe. Written for @marvelfulxbabes writing challenge, filling the prompt of Firefighter AU. Thank you to @sassy-pelican, @overlordintraining and @s-trawberryv-eins for reading this through for me to make sure I’m not ‘tarding hard <3

“Come down from there, this instant!” You commanded with a stern tone, more irritated than you had ever been with the white ball of fur that was currently the bane of your existence. “Snowball?!”

The late morning sun filtered through the foliage of the sycamore tree, dappling the shaded grass with a myriad of dancing sunbeams. On any other day you might admire them and take inspiration, but not today. Today it was easily 95 degrees out and you had a job interview at a coffee shop in the city which you were going to _miss_ because of that stupid _cat_.

You paced the lawn in your heels, pencil skirt and white blouse;, the latter had already begun to stick to the damp skin of your lower back on account of the heat; you felt uncomfortable and it added to your annoyance. _Curse that damn cat_.

Snowball was your sister’s cat, and you were minding her while your sister was away on a month-long vacation. Something about a sabbatical from work, seeing the world, once in a life-time opportunity, yadda yadda yadda. Of course you’d look after her cat. The trouble was that your sister lived up state and you couldn’t be away from your studio, which was essentially your garage, so Snowball had moved in.

You were on day five of being a cat mamma and Snowball had already made you her bitch. She slept on your bed and scratched any unprotected piece of skin if you so much as thought of infringing upon her space. Whatever chair you were on she wanted to be on, when you ate she’d attack your plate, invade your privacy when you peed (yes she could open doors), there were ladders in all of your stockings, white hairs on all of your clothes, she’d even peed in your favourite sneakers.

So, there you were, stood under the tree at the end of your front yard, covered in scratches and fur, begging the vindictive demon of a cat to take pity on you so you could please _please_ attend this job interview before you were so broke you couldn’t make your mortgage payment.

“She doesn’t look very sympathetic to your plight.” A deep but soft voice startled you so much you squeaked.

“Holyfuckingshit!” Your mouth ran as you panicked, hand splayed on your chest.

“Sorry.” The tall brunette with electric blue eyes stepped forward to steady you with a hand on your elbow. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Breathless and sweaty from running, he looked at you with concern.

He was gorgeous, muscular, lean and fit. Lightly tanned skin on display under a tight white wife beater and some grey jersey shorts. The Polynesian tattoo sleeve that adorned his left arm practically had you panting. You laughed nervously and swayed on your feet, heels digging into the lawn; you’d been on your tiptoes so as not to get your stilettos snagged in the grass. Who wore stilettos to an interview at a coffee shop anyway?

“Can I help at all?” He offered, face softening from worry to the cutest smile you’d ever seen.

“If by some miracle you’re a cat whisperer then, yeah.” You looked up at the demon in question, innocently looking down from high up in the branches. “I don’t rate your chances though, she’s pure evil.”

The man laughed a soft chortle and extended his hand. “Name’s James.” He took your hand but rather than shake it he dipped into a slight bow, pressing his lips to your knuckles softly. “James the cat whisperer, at your service milady.”

You simpered despite your best efforts not to. Sure, James was charming but he’d just walked up to you on the street and you didn’t know him from Adam. What if he was a serial killer or something? He didn’t look like a serial killer though. But then again, they say that neither did Ted Bundy.

You sighed and told him your name, curtseying as well as you could in your tight skirt, keeping up the precedence he had set with his old-world chivalry. “And this is Snowball, bane of my hall and hearth, wound maker, stealer of beds, destroyer of hosiery.”

“Oh no!” James laughed so hard he held his stomach. “I hope you keep your best stockings locked in an iron casket. We can’t have such a beast destroying a good lady’s pretties.”

“Alas they are all gone, fallen prey to claw and callousness.” You feign to swoon and instinctively James grabs your arm, blushing when he realised you weren’t really going to fall. “Seriously though, if you can work some magic and get her down then I might still be able to make my interview,” you glance down at your watch, “scratch that, I’m already late.” 

“Give them a call, they might reschedule.” He said as he emptied his pockets onto the grass and unstrapped his phone that was in a running holder on his bicep. “I’ll get your cat down and hopefully you can make the next one.”

You grinned. “You’re a life-saver.”

With a shrug and a smile that said _don’t mention it,_ James looked up into the branches, squinting a little as the dappled light caught his eye. Snowball was alert and deceptively passive as she looked down at her would-be rescuer. You knew different – she was plotting his demise.

The manager of Java Joes wasn’t as understanding as you’d hoped. He said his recruitment team would get back in touch, but you didn’t hold out much hope. You were put out but couldn’t be mad, it was your fault that Snowball had escaped after all. You’d just have to keep looking for work until you could sell some of your artwork.

James was under the tree, eyeing up the lower branches when you returned. He’d been trying to coax Snowball down when you’d been on the phone but that had been about as much use as a chocolate fireguard.

“Stand back.” He said without waiting to find out the verdict from your phone call, and ushers you away from the trunk. “If I fall and crush you then tyrant cats will be the least of your worries.” He licks his lips nervously and readies himself.

“If you fall? What-”

His cheeky wink silenced you right before he bounded towards the tree like he was about to do the high jump. He got two steps up the trunk and rebounded up towards the lowest branch some fifteen feet off the ground. One-handed he latched on swinging precariously but his grip was firm, tendons and muscles corded tight. He took the opportunity to look down at you with a grin before he positioned his right hand and inched towards the thicker end of the branch to pull himself up.

“Very impressive.” You flirted. “Not only are you a cat whisperer but part monkey as well. Is there any end to your talents, sir?”

“Apparently I make crap coffee.” He snorted, remaining focused on his footing as he manoeuvred to the next branch up.

James seemed a little too bulky for parkour, you thought, but he was more agile than any man his size you had seen before (including firefighter Steve, your neighbour on the right). James was strong _and_ pretty; definitely a panty dampener. Your neighbour on the left (divorcee Denise) was already out pretending to trim her bushes, ogling James as he flexed and climbed; that woman had banged her way around the neighbourhood since her husband left her for his secretary. You frowned, already possessive of what little interaction you’ve shared with this hot stranger.

“If you get her down, I’ll make you a cup of the good stuff.” You promised. After all, your morning and afternoon were now devoid of plans.

“ _If?_ ” He scoffed, scandalised. “I’m offended you doubt my cat rescuing skills.” His sentence was punctuated with a grunt as he jumped for another branch which was precariously far away. Rather than climb through a cluster of smaller, weaker branches, he’d elected to go around. It was more dangerous and with your heart in your throat you watched him leap the distance.

“Please don’t hurt yourself.” You called, fear breaking your voice. You weren’t ready to deal with broken bones, or worse, if he fell.

Up in the tree, Snowball began to back away as James neared just below. She hissed and growled, spat and clawed at him as he reached for her. While her attention was focused on one hand, he snaked his other underneath and grabbed her from behind.

Carnage ensued and the white ball of fur became a dervish of twisting limbs and threatening screeches. At first you thought James would let her go to spare himself from her claws, but he gripped her close, enduring scratches to his neck and chest. When she calmed enough for him to secure her with one hand, he cautiously began the climb down. Your heart was hammering in your chest. How would he get down with one arm rendered useless?

He inched his way awkwardly through the snagging twigs and branches he’d avoided on the way up, which yielded more scratches, picking his way ever so carefully so as not to jostle his passenger. She seemed content enough with the blood she’d drawn and lay still against his chest; the only evidence of her annoyance was the swish of her tail.

“I can’t believe you got her.” You puffed out a relieved breath when James was finally sat on the lowest branch. It was still fifteen feet off the ground, but he could drop the cat down to you and jump down safely.

“If there’s one thing I’m good for, it’s helping a damsel in distress. Right, Snowball?” He petted her and she grumbled. “Though it _is_ pretty cliché.” He muttered almost too quietly for you to hear.

“Here,” you stepped underneath him, your eyes tracing the line of tanned muscle up under the hem of his shorts, his thigh looked smooth and strong, and you swallowed dryly. “I’ll catch her.”

“It’s ok.” He smiled softly. “I got her.” He swung his leg over the branch, holding on with his left hand and letting his legs dangle. Slowly he lowered himself in a reverse one-arm pull-up, until his arm was fully extended. He paused there as Snowball began to struggle once more, pushing and scratching at him to be set free. He dropped, landing with a slight stumble on a tree root or maybe a patch of uneven grass, but he was safe and so was Snowball.

“You stupid moggy. I’m definitely taking my bed back after this you ungrateful little shit.” You chastise the feline as James hands her over to you, his hands brushed parts of you that you could only dream of him touching otherwise. He seemed to notice and offered an apologetic wince.

“She’s a stubborn little lady, isn’t she?” He said with a wry smile.

“You could say that.” You sighed and he chuckled, bright and warm.

“They say pets take on the personality traits of their owners.” He teased with a cheeky smile. Suddenly the heat of the day was forgotten, the stifling sheen of sweat on your skin a thing of no consequence, damp clothes and discomfort a thought from the past. Now all you felt was a warmth in your gut that tingled, and an effervescent thrill in your chest. The man was stunning, beautiful even. The urge to capture his essence on canvas was almost painful, the urge to touch him was harder still to resist.

You swallow dryly. “If that’s the case then my sister is the right-hand-man of Beelzebub himself.” You deadpanned.

James’s laugh burst forth, the first splutter developing into a slightly goofy chortle that was both genuine and contagious. “Well that explains a lot.” He calmed himself with a sigh. “You didn’t strike me as the virgin sacrificing kind.”

“Can’t think of a better use for them.” You were too distracted by the way his smile transforms his face that you just replied automatically, saying something you’d say to a close friend. “They’re no good for sex, and if it means there’ll be no more pussy problem then I’m game.”

There was a moment where you weren’t sure what had him laughing so hard but the you snorted and let the contagious laughter take over. Snowball’s struggles against your breast were forgotten in the giddy thrill of the moment. It was several minutes until you were both calm enough to talk.

The heat of the day, now unbearable, reasserted its presence. James used the hem of his shirt to mop his brow, displaying toned planes of perfect musculature and smooth skin now adorned by multitudes of angry red scratches.

Guilt flooded in. “I’m so sorry.” You felt terrible. “What a mess.”

“It’s fine. I’ve survived worse.” His smile was meant to be reassuring but there was something sad about it and you felt it too, there was no reason for him to linger, except…

“I owe you a coffee at least, sir cat whisperer.” You bowed your head slightly, resuming the dynamic you’d previously shared. “Will you let me to patch you up? It’s the least I can do.”

“I don’t want to impose,” he seemed unsure, “what about your interview?”

You shook your head with a weary thin-lipped smile. No words were needed, you knew you wouldn’t hear from them so it was back to the drawing board on the job front.

“Sorry about that. I should have been quicker.” He picked his things up from the grass, keys and wallet stuffed back into the pockets of his now slightly grubby shorts, and phone in hand.

“Pfft, the damage was already done thanks to this one.” You gave Snowball’s head a rub and she yowled at you in disgust. There would be tantrums later but she sure as hell wasn’t getting cooked chicken breast for her supper tonight, she was getting regular cat food after that little stunt.

“All right, lead the way.”

==========

The air in your home was so much cooler in contrast to outside that you broke out into goosebumps instantly. James followed you, silently looking around like a tourist. If he was surprised by the eclectic mix of décor he didn’t show it. Instead he wore a pleased smile as you lead him to the kitchen.

With Snowball deposited on the floor, you got your first aid kit out and set the espresso jug on the gas ring to brew later. You didn’t often drink espresso but an americano made with good espresso was infinitely better than the crap that comes out of a jar or standard filter coffee. James watched you as you worked, eyes following you intermittently as he wrote a quick text on his phone.

Hands washed and supplies at the ready; you regarded him, sat on one of your breakfast stools looking delicious if completely scratched up.

“Can I…?” You gestured to his wounds, asking permission to touch him.

“Oh! Sure.” He hesitated for only a moment before stripping his top away, leaving your jaw hanging while you practically eye-fucked him.

_This man… God damn!_

You focused on cleaning and disinfecting the collection of slashes and gouges on his neck, chest and arms. Stood between his spread knees, you delicately drew the antiseptic soaked cotton ball over each scratch, wiping away the dried blood. You took your time, ensuring each one, even those he could see himself, were cleaned. What better excuse for you to have your hands all over this gorgeous man who you would probably never see again afterwards.

The tension in the air was reflected in the heavy blush on your cheeks as you swab a particularly deep scratch on his throat. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing under your touch and when your eyes lifted to meet his you found him staring and breathing hard. You were both so close, inches apart but the divide of unfamiliarity too wide to cross.

The more you touched him the warmer you became until you couldn’t meet his gaze for fear of what he might see. You were never very good at hiding your emotions, never able to lie and this would be no different, you wore your attraction to him like a badge. A shamefully red badge all over your face.

His hands twitched on his knees; a stifled urge to touch you, perhaps, or to relieve you of your duty. That moment of unsurety had him searching your downturned face in the silence that lay between you, which was bursting with electricity.

“Y/n?” He said softly and your eyes snapped up to his face. In that moment you saw something in him that spun your world around: adulation.

James laid one hand on your hip tentatively and drew you forward. Forgotten were the scratches and the antiseptic swabs. Forgotten were the thoughts that you were strangers to each other. Forgotten was your hesitancy as you leaned towards him, eyes flitting between his plush lips and his brilliant blue eyes. He reached up to thread his fingers into the hair at your nape-

A knock at the back door startled you both and you jumped back. Your neighbour, Steve, was stood outside peering in through the glass with a goofy smirk on his face.

“I hope you don’t mind,” James said in a rush, “I texted Steve to let him know I was here.”

“You know my neighbour?” You gestured for Steve to come in as James nodded. How had you never seen this man before if he was a friend of Steve and Sharon?

“Hey, y/n.” Steve was always chipper but today he seemed so much more so. “Thanks for keeping this one occupied.” The tall blonde smirked at the state of his friend, topless and scratched up. “What happened to you, huh?”

Was that a micro wink you saw just then?

“I did the cliché firefighter thing.” James said, rolling his eyes at the suggestive nature of Steve’s comment. “I was jogging ‘round the block waiting for you to show up and y/n needed some help with Snowball.”

“First week on the job and you’re rescuing cats.” Steve laughed. He knew all about Snowball, having been there that first day and helped you bring all of her cat ‘furniture’ in from your car. “You’re a brave man.”

“So, you two are good friends?”

“We’ve been inseparable since we were kids. Bucky and me, we-”

“Wait! _This is Bucky_?” You’d heard all about Army hero Bucky Barnes. Stories from Steve about his childhood, stories from Sharon about Steve’s bachelor party, and other events where the myth of Bucky Barnes was woven into the legend of the perfect friend. Steve loved this man like his own brother, but he was only ever a fable until now. “You’re the guy who made Steve puke all over himself on a rollercoaster? The guy who fell from a moving train and broke his arm to save Steve’s life? The guy who Sharon’s Grandma Maggie wouldn’t stop talking about-”

“Oh god!” Bucky groaned and fixed Steve with a warning stare. “We agreed never to talk about the Maggie thing.”

“I might have told y/n.” Steve winced. “It’s not _that_ bad.”

“ _Well_ , I gotta tell you,” you cocked a brow, “the Grandma Maggie story was… _hot!_ ” Fanning yourself salaciously, you smirked at him.

Bucky groaned but it wasn’t long before he was laughing and all the tension between you had seeped away. The way his whole face lit up when he smiled, the endearing but nervous swipe of his tongue across his lips when he tried to regain control, and the shining blue fire in his eyes. All of it had you wishing you could see him like this every single day from now on.

The conversation flowed so naturally between you, Steve and his life-long friend, you were sad when you finally finished cleaning up all of James’s cuts and talk turned to their afternoon gym plans. Steve finally excused himself and James trailed after him, dawdling behind to offer you an apologetic smile, but he was still leaving. You panicked.

“So, fireman Bucky?” You called and he turned in the doorway, the sun illuminating his perfect form. “Will I see you again?”

You could just make out his surprise before it was overtaken by his most brilliant smile. “Well, you _do_ owe me that coffee.”

“How about tomorrow?” Your heart was hammering in your chest. _Be brave_ , you told yourself. “I’d love to hear the story of how Sir James tamed vicious Grandma Maggie.”

“How about tonight instead?” His smile tugged at your heart, curling the corners of his mouth coquettishly. “I’d hate to deprive you of my most embarrassing tale.” He picked up the flirt so effortlessly, your selfless knight in topless glory.

“Come by around six?”

James grinned big and, with a chivalrous bow, disappeared in Steve’s wake.

You began to prepare Snowball an early supper; chicken breast. She deserved a big reward after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed my little fluff-fest! I love hearing from you guys so please drop me a commet or a kudos to let me know what you thought, or you can pop over to my Tumblr blog [@crushedbyhyperbole](https://crushedbyhyperbole.tumblr.com/)and say hi.  
> Have yourselves a soft fluffy evening. Much love from me <3


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